


the take off

by withoutwords



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: An hour and a lot of angry phone calls later and there’s no escaping it - Ben’s not going home tonight, and now he has to share a room with a complete stranger. "Callum," the other man had told him after Ben had called him Soldier Boy one too many times. "My name’s Callum."





	the take off

**Author's Note:**

> This is for calhighway, a belated birthday gift, after we joked one too many times about writing an au for the "airline makes strangers share bed" story that went viral the other week.
> 
> Hope this does it justice, and hope you enjoy! X

This isn’t happening. It’s raining outside, there’s a kid screaming a few feet away and the airport cleric with a thick Parisian accent is telling Ben his flight has been cancelled. All the flights have been cancelled.

And, to top it all off, the last train left half an hour ago.

“We have a room for you at a nearby hotel,” the cleric is telling him, while Ben is trying really hard not to leap over the desk and kill them with his bare hands. “Just five minutes up the road.”

“I don’t _ want _ a hotel room.”

“Then we can book you into our next available flight, once the weather has cleared.”

“I don’t _ want _ the next flight. I want _ this _ one.”

“I’m sorry, sir - ”

“_ You’re sorry _ ?” Ben shouts, realising he’s flown off the handle entirely too soon but just unable to stop it. “No. _ I’m _ sorry. ‘Cause I got a kid waiting for me, and a family that are gonna shake their heads like, oh, there goes Ben, letting her down again, and trust me, _ trust me _ , it won’t matter that it ain’t my fault, no, ‘cause I coulda got a flight a week ago when it was sunny, see? _ See _?”

The cleric just looks at him like he’s lost his mind. He probably has. “I’m - “

“Sorry, yeah,” Ben grumbles, tugging his suitcase back from where he’d left it and putting out a hand. “Fine. Where’s this hotel?”

*

It’s not that he was in a great rush to leave France. It had mostly been a party, if he was honest. Plenty of booze, beautiful men, and a culture of music and eating that he could get used to. When he’d first left for Paris, it had been a roll of the dice - but he’d lucked out with a good job, and nice friends, and security.

Honestly, going back to Walford was just going to undo all of that. 

“Room 613, at the end of the hall,” the attendant at the hotel told Ben when he checked in, his bags already on there way up. “Breakfast is at 8am, and we have a note here from the airport to alert you of changes in your schedule.”

Ben scoffs at him. “Right, sure, like gettin’ home some time this year, yeah?”

“Something like that.”

Ben grumbles the whole way up to the sixth floor, just imagining what his dad, and Lola, and half the Square is going to say when Ben calls to tell them he’s not getting there until tomorrow. As if he could plan this storm and all that flash flooding, as if he’s some voodoo doctor and he willed it to happen.

What’s less believable than all of that, is walking into his room and finding some tall, outfitted soldier standing in the middle of the room and eyeing Ben’s bag curiously.

“What - who are you?” he asks stupidly, the soldier taking a shocked step back.

“Who’re _ you _?”

“This is _ my _ room.”

“No, it’s _ mine _.”

“Actually, it’s _ mine _,” Ben argues, starting to kick off his shoes just to prove a point. Mr Combat Boots over there hadn’t got that far yet. “My flight was cancelled and the airport - ” 

“_My _ flight was cancelled.”

Ben lets out a long string of curses and restrains himself from punching a wall. The soldier gets to the phone before Ben does and hits a button for the front desk and Ben can do no more than stand there with his arms crossed and wait for this nightmare to end. 

“Um,” the soldier says with a little cough, his cheeks starting to flush. “They said the airport booked us a room to share. We - we’re both supposed to stay here tonight.”

*  


An hour and a lot of angry phone calls later and there’s no escaping it - Ben’s not going home tonight, and now he has to share a room with a complete stranger. _ Callum _ , the other man had told him after Ben had called him Soldier Boy one too many times. _ My name’s Callum. _

Ben was done. He was hungry, he was tired and he really needed a shower and a very strong drink. In any order, he didn’t care.

“I guess this is it,” Callum says, slumping into the tiny little sofa that’s jammed in the corner. He’d apparently found time to take his boots off at last - not that it made him any less intimidating in all that khaki.

“I need food,” Ben snaps. “And whiskey. A lot. Of both.”

Callum blinks. “Okay.”

“So? You wanna order that, or you want first shower?”

“Um.” Ben huffs. Great, indecision.

“You shower, I’ll order food. See if we can get something free for all this garbage they put us through.”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Ben decides he’s in too bad a mood to wait, so he raids the minibar - he’ll worry about it later - and turns on the TV. He’d already had a short, tense conversation with Lola - Lexi was asleep - and cowardishly sent his dad a message.

Tonight he’d sleep and tomorrow he’d deal with Walford.

“Your turn,” Callum says when he gets out from the bathroom, scrubbing his head with a towel. He’s a good looking bloke, Ben hadn’t missed the fact - it’s a little hard when there’s a man three feet from you wearing a uniform - but in sweats and a t-shirt it changes.

He’s soft now, a little shy, and a pale, firm strip of his belly appears where his shirt rides up.

Ben pushes it down. “Thank God.”

*  


They have fish and chips and a chocolate pudding and it’s not that bad, when it comes down to it. The drinks help too, Ben feeling less tense, Callum seeming to find more things to talk about. Even if it’s not related to his life - he’s funny, with a little sly, dry humour that surprises Ben.

When they get into a light hearted argument about who’s going to have to sleep on the couch, Callum turns over from his place on the bed and looks in the bedside drawer.

“A-ha!” he calls out stupidly, making Ben scoff at him. He shakes around a deck of cards. “Five card drawer.”

“Really? I thought you’d want Go Fish.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Callum says, but he’s laughing, sitting up to shuffle them.

“What’s the rules?”

“Uh, dur, winner takes the bed.”

“Yeah I got that part, thanks,” Ben says teasingly, kicking Callum with a socked foot. “Best of three? Five? Winner takes the bed and what’s left of the beer?”

“Oh, come on, that’s just heartless that is. At least we can share the beer.”

“Oh, at least,” 

“Oh,” Callum repeats, laughing, and Ben follows him,

“Oh,” and they keep repeating each other until they’re giggling like children and trying to pull themselves together to play the game.

“Oldest person deals,” Callum says when they’ve calmed down, which just makes Ben laugh more.

It’s nice.

*

By the fourth game and a few more beers later, the whole thing has mostly taken a nosedive. There’s a lot of cheating, and a lot of distractions, and Callum becomes way too invested in an old episode of _ A Touch of Frost _ to really try that hard at winning.

“It’s a big bed,” Ben says, starfishing to demonstrate and kicking Callum in the thigh. “We could just share it.”

Callum scoffs. “Or you could sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Ben rolls on his side and looks up at Callum, who’s sitting up with his eyes glued to the TV. “If you can move me, I’ll go.”

Callum glances down and grins. “You think I couldn’t?”

“Oh, I bet you could. Big, strong man like you,” Ben flirts, reaching out a hand to curl around Callum’s bicep. Ben’s half expecting him to flinch or pull away, but he just keeps grinning. Huh.

“Then you don’t really wanna take that bet, do ya.”

“Maybe I do.”

Callum just shakes his head. Ben watches him watch the TV. It’s been a few hours now that they’ve been stuck here together and all Ben really knows about him is that he’s going to visit a mate somewhere and he really likes old detective shows.

Callum knows about Lexi, Lola, and the whole Mitchell family. Ben couldn’t shut up at one point. 

“So why were you in Paris?” he asks, making Callum frown.

“Uh, work stuff.”

“Army stuff.”

“Yeah. We had training exercises.”

“Right.” Ben doesn’t bother asking more about that. “And this mate? How do you know him?”

“Uh, well, I knew his brother when we were kids. Sort of knew them my whole life. I thought since I’m so close to London I’d go visit.”

“Sounds nice.”

Callum glances over again with a look. “Sounds nice?”

“Shut up!” Ben pushes at him, and Callum pushes back, and what’s left of the crisps goes scattering onto the floor. “It does sound nice.”

“Yeah, it will be,” Callum says softly, and Ben thinks it might be the truest thing he’s said all night.

*

After another hour, and well past midnight, Ben thinks he’s in with a chance. If Jay were here he’d probably scold Ben for being such an opportunist - _ this poor bloke just wants to get some shut eye and get on with his life, Ben, Jesus. _

The thought makes Ben smile. At least he knows he’s going home to one friend. 

“Get the light?” Callum asks Ben as he heads toward the bed, Ben getting a glass of water.

“Wait, come here,” he says, turning around to rest his lower back against the bench. Callum gives him a confused look but moves closer anyway, asking,

“Alright?” just as Ben reaches out to grab the front of his shirt.

“Here,” Ben says again, and pulls him even closer, and Callum puts his hands up to keep some space.

“Ben.”

“Come on. I like you, I thought…”

“I ain’t,” Callum starts to say, giving his head a little shake and looking down at the floor. He’s so lovely, is the thing - with his red ears and his lazy smile and the way his shoulders slump like he’s trying not to be so tall. Ben's only met one other man that was lovely. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Sex?”

“Men,” Callum tells him like he’s fighting an urge to roll his eyes.

“Right. But … you’ve thought about it?”

Callum finally looks him in the eye again. “I s’pose. Yeah.”

“Okay, well.” This time Callum lets Ben pull him in as close as he can, his cheeks flushed and his tongue out to wet his lips. Ben wants him. A lot. “You can stop thinking if you want. You can have it.”

Callum kisses like Ben’s his last meal, clawing onto him like he might disappear.

Ben’s not going anywhere.

*  


The bed is big, Ben hadn’t been wrong about that. Callum pushes him down onto the middle of it, and Ben gets his legs around him, and they kiss hungry and wet and burning until Ben’s wrestling with Callum’s t-shirt to get it off.

“I don’t …” Callum starts to say, looking lost and hopeful and turned on, rolling his hips so their now hard cocks rub against each other through the thin cotton of their sweats. They both gasp.

“Ya doing fine, great,” Ben assures him, getting his own shirt off, and going back in for another kiss. Ben grabs at the strong muscle of Callum’s arms, and back, and roams down to his arse and grabs a handful. He’s gorgeous, and he’s good at this, being attentive with his mouth and hips and body.

Ben could come in his pants like a teenager. He doesn’t want to. He rolls them over and gets Callum onto his back, straddling his hips and revelling in the sight of him. Callum’s flush goes down from his cheeks to his neck to his throat to his chest, Ben trailing it with his mouth.

Callum mostly keeps his hands on Ben’s thighs, despite the way his eyes close, and his back arches, and his dick leaks through his clothes. Ben takes them and puts them on his arse and grins at Callum when Callum’s eyes fly open.

“You can touch whatever you want,” he says, taking a hard, pink nipple in his mouth and enjoying the sound Callum makes. He whispers Ben’s name as Ben ventures down his body, slowly pulling Callum’s pants off and getting a look at his cock.

It’s as impressive as the rest of him.

“Can I?” he asks, and figures Callum will understand what he’s asking.

“Y-yeah,” is the shaky reply, Callum putting his hands in Ben’s hair but not pushing. “Please.”

*

Ben’s had sex with a lot of men. He enjoys it, and he’s not ashamed that he does any more. But the only time he had sex that moved him, changed him, blew his mind, was when it was sex with the man he loved.

Ben hasn’t felt that way in years.

Of course, he’s not in love with Callum. But he’s gotten to know him, and he likes him a lot, and that’s a lot more than he can say for all the other men he’s spent a night with.

This just feels really right.

“Fuck, Ben,” Callum’s calling to the celing, as Ben sucks at his cock with growing speed, digging his fingers into Callum’s hips. He’s starting to get tears in his eyes, starting to lose breath, but he knows Callum’s so close now and he doesn’t want to stop.

He wants his first time with a man to be good, to be worth it, to be memorable.

“Ben, Ben, I,” Callum is panting at him, unable to stop his hips from coming up as he finally comes, shooting right down the back of Ben’s throat with a cry that might just wake the neighbours. Ben takes it, and takes it, until Callum loosens up and he can move off - wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and crawling up to join Callum.

“Good?” he asks, laughing when Callum just makes a noise that sounds affirmative. Ben grabs Callum's face to kiss him, to make him taste himself on Ben’s tongue, to show him what he’s done is fun, and good, and he should be okay with it.

He hopes he’s okay with it.

“You’re,” Callum says groggily, looking down at where Ben’s got a leg thrown over him and is pushing his insistent dick into Callum’s hip. “What do you - ”

“Whatever, I don’t care.”

“I can’t … my mouth.”

“That’s fine, don’t worry, I can…”

“No I want to,” Callum says and Ben can’t help but smile at the way he sounds like a student wanting to do well on the test. “Really, I just … don’t know how, y’know?”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I know.”

This time Callum grabs him for a kiss, rolling into him so that they’re front on and Ben can press himself against Callum’s thighs, his belly. Ben gasps with the pressure, and bucks at him desperately, then pushes his pants down to free his cock.

“Can you touch me? I mean, if you want.”

Callum curls a hand around him and Ben feels it in his toes.

*

What he lacks in experience, Callum makes up for in enthusiasm. He grabs at Ben awkwardly at first, and twists him at the wrong angle, and Ben hisses and laughs and brings his hand down to join Callum’s own. Together they find a perfect rhythm, all slick and sweat - Ben watching Callum watch their two hands joined as one.

Ben can feel all of it; the pressure of their pull and fire up his spine and Callum’s heavy gaze on his cock, his body, his face. It’s the most intimate thing Ben’s shared in such a long time.

Soon, Ben’s throatily demanding more, _ feels so good, so good Callum, faster, harder, c’mom c’mon _, unable to stop himself thrusting into it.

When he comes it’s so overwhelming he’s quiet - Callum making more noise as Ben shoots out all over their bodies and hands and the bedsheets. Ben curls into Callum, hides his face in his neck, Callum gathering him in his arms.

“How was that?” Callum asks after a few moments, and Ben lets out something like a laugh.

“Good. Really good.”

“That’s good,” Callum replies, and of course he doesn’t sound smug, or proud. He’s just glad Ben enjoyed it. That he didn't disappoint.

Ben kisses him.

*  


They get a call at 7:30am to let them know a flight’s been cleared for 8:45. Ben wants to smile at Callum, kiss him, talk about the night they had and if they can do the same again some time. But Callum seems tense, and tired, and Ben doesn’t want to push something that was so obviously a one night stand. 

In the shower he just lets the warm water wash over him, feeling a weird kind of loss, trying to talk himself into the day that’s about to come.

If Ben were a man of faith, he might think Callum was sent to him to help him through the torture of going home to Walford. He’d had a shoulder to lean on, an ear to complain to, a warm body to hold.

It had been a great night. Ben can’t complain.

“Where’ve they put you?” he asks once Callum checks in and grabs his ticket.

“Near the front. You?”

“Back.”

“Right.”

They wait in the chairs in silence, mostly, except for a few comments about a football game or the weather. It’s tense right up until they’re called to board.

“Listen,” Ben decides to say, putting a hand on Callum’s shoulder before he gets up to go. “I had a really good time last night, yeah? I get that you’re working things out but I thought … you know. If we’re ever in the same neighbourhood … I could give you my number?”

Callum, to his credit, looks at Ben as he speaks. There’s something like a smile hiding at the corner of his mouth. “I … I had a good time too,” he finally says, scratching at his shoulder. “You’re a great guy, Ben. I just … I don’t think it would work right now, you know?”

Ben tries not to let the disappointment show too much, dropping his hand from Callum’s shoulder. “Sure. I get it.”

“But thank you,” Callum rushes to say, and surprises Ben by standing and pulling him up for a hug. It’s tight and squeezing and Ben holds on. “Thanks for a great night. It was … you were great.”

Ben gives him a little wave as he goes, the weight on his chest almost crushing.

*

Ben’s running late to get Lexi from school. There was a problem at the car lot, then the car wouldn’t start, then he’d poured his cup of coffee all over his blue shirt and had to stop for one from the garage - _ 100% British Beef. _

Just as he’s crashing his way out to his car, he runs right into Callum. 

“Ben?” he asks, shocked.

It’s been months.

“Callum? What’re you - where did you…” Ben can’t put the words together.

“I’m living in Walford now,” Callum says, as if that’s supposed to make sense. Why was he in Walford? How long had he been here? How come it had taken so long for them to run into each other?

“Fuck.”

Callum lets out a small laugh. “Yeah.”

“Well did you, I mean are you …”

“Ben,” Callum says, reaching to touch his arm and putting Ben out of his misery. “I’m staying at the Vic, do you know it?”

“Yeah. Course.”

“Well, uh, how about we meet there later, yeah?”

“Yeah. Sounds good. Yeah.”

Callum’s all out smiling now, and Ben realises he’s grinning like an idiot, and he watches Callum go inside until he disappears from Ben’s sight.

Thankfully, this time, it won’t be for too long. 

**Author's Note:**

> join me at thefancyspin on tumblr


End file.
